Zuñi Folk Tales

by Frank Hamilton Cushing

“What but that there he cuts the throats of his captives and casts their bones and heads into the depths of the chasm! Do you see the notch in the stone? That’s where he lets their blood flow down, and for that reason no one ever discovers his tracks. Now, stiffen your feet with patience, I say, and we will see what to do when the time comes.”

Again they sat and waited. As the old demon and the girls passed along below, the elder brother again started and would have shot had not Mátsailéma held him back. “You fool of a brother elder, but not wiser. No! Do you not know that your arrow is lightning and will kill the maidens as well as the monster?”

Finally, the demon reached the entrance to his cave, and, going in, asked the girls to follow him, laying out two slabs for them to sit on. “Now, sit down, my pretty girls, and I will soon get something for you to eat. You must be hungry.” Going to the rear of the cave, he broke open a stone oven, and the steam which arose was certainly delicious and meaty. Soon he brought out two great bowls, big enough to feed a whole dance. One contained meat, the other a mess resembling sweet-bread pudding. “Now, let us eat,” said the demon, seating himself opposite, and at once diving his horny fingers and scaly hand half up to the wrist in the meat-broth. The elder sister began to take bits of the food to eat it, when the younger made a motion to her, and showed her with horror the bones of a little hand. The sweet-bread was the flesh and bones of little children. Then the two girls only pretended to eat, taking the food out and throwing it down by the side of the bowls.

“Why don’t you eat?” demanded the demon, cramming at the same time a huge mouthful of the meat, bones and all, into his wide throat.

“We are eating,” said one of the girls.

“Then why do you throw my food away?”

“We are throwing away only the bones.”

“Well, the bones are the better part,” retorted the demon, taking another huge mouthful, by way of example, big enough to make a grown man’s meal. “Oh, yes!” he added; “I forgot that you had baby teeth.”

After the meal was finished, the old demon said: “Let us go out and sit down in the sun on my terrace. Perhaps, my pretty maidens, you will comb an old man’s hair, for I have no one left to help me now,” he sighed, pretending to be very sad. So, showing the girls where to sit down, without waiting for their assent he settled himself in front of them and leaned his head back to have it combed. The two maidens dared not disobey; and now and then they pulled at a long, coarse hair, and then snapped their fingers close to his scalp, which so deceived the old demon that he grunted with satisfaction every time. At last their knees were so tired by his weight upon them that they said they were done, and Átahsaia, rising, pretended to be greatly pleased, and thanked them over and over. Then he told them to sit down in front of him, and he would comb their hair as they had combed his, but not to mind if he hurt a little for his fingers were old and stiff. The two girls again dared not disobey, and sat down as he had directed. Uhh! how the old beast grinned and glared and breathed softly between his teeth.

The two brothers had carefully watched everything, the elder one starting up now and then, the younger remaining quiet. Suddenly Mátsailéma sprang up. He caught the shield the Sun-father had given him,—the shield which, though made only of nets and knotted cords, would ward off alike the weapons of the warrior or the magic of the wizard. Holding it aloft, he cried to Áhaiyúta: “Stand ready; the time is come! If I miss him, pierce him with your arrow. Now, then—”